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i just wanted to go home

but everytime i am near
my hands always produce wind
and take the house away

i just wanted to go home

but whenever my mom ask me
if my shirt was inside-out
i felt the leaves of makahiya plant that i ate slowly folding in my tounge
and the thorns burns in my throat

i can't say it! i can't say it!

i'm just really wanted to go home.

but everytime i touched the door
i always find myself at the street
  
sleeping

©IGMS
Makahiya Plant - Mimosa pudica [2] (from Latin: pudica "shy, bashful or shrinking"; also called sensitive plant, sleepy plant, Dormilones or shy plant ) is a creeping annual or perennial herb of the pea family Fabaceae often grown for its curiosity value: the compound leaves fold inward and droop when touched or shaken, defending themselves from harm, and re-open a few minutes later. [3] The species is native to South America and Central America , but is now a pantropical ****. It can also be found in Asia in countries such as Thailand, Indonesia , Malaysia , Philippines , and Jamaica . It grows mostly in undisturbed shady areas, under trees or shrubs. [source:Wikipedia]
drip. drop. drip. drop.
hear the pain?
dancing under the purple rain
*

©IGMS
'cause the rain is the bravest of all
for it is not afraid to fall
and you're all deaf
'cause you don't hear
the hurt of
-
and you're all blind
'cause you don't see
the color of
-
the falling purple rain
i am a mere word of this page
and you are the phrases i admire most that i can't have.
at least give me a proof of sentence,
that i am still part of your paragraph.
i've never thought that this boundless sea of whiteness
can be so lonesome.
the large gap between us and other words,
feels like the vastness of the ocean,
drowning me in and out of the pages.*

©IGMS
the untold story of the lonely word
i already buried my voice a long time ago
when i chose to be a poet
i buried it with words in papers
in ink of pen with blues*

©IGMS
it seems like
im so exhausted
of all the talking
of all the reasoning
of defending myself
so i remained silent
playing with fire
was like
sharpening the knife
only just
to cut your own
throat

©IGMS
nothing remains
only just the ashes of
your regrets
our love is a fiction*
carved from my mind
and written in these*

tattered pages

©IGMS
the tale of love that will never be become true
to be the light,
carry with you
a heart filled with
fiery burning passion
to help

and seek no reward
for thyself


©IGMS
lesson #3 from firefly

you may be small but you can be big as you can be through your light

Note: the italic last line is from "R k"

tap or click the #igmslessonsfromanimals tag button to read the other lessons
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